


15- Nightmares

by Viscariafields



Series: FAM2k18 [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, fenris appreciation month, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: Hawke has a nightmare on the Wounded Coast. Fenris divulges some of his own.





	15- Nightmares

The cold of the ground, the drip of the water echoing through her brain, but mostly it was the  _smell_. The stench of rot and death and the end of everything. She was back in the Deep Roads, and the darkspawn were on top of them.

Daggers were a poor choice when their toxin was spewing everywhere. It was in her hair, on her skin.  _Mouth closed_ , she repeated to herself. The horde was endless, pouring out of every cleft and crack of the stone.  _Keep your mouth closed and don’t let them land a hit. You don’t want to end up like—_

She saw her out of the corner of her eye.  _Bethany_. She couldn’t open her mouth to call out, could only make a strangled sound, but her sister must have heard, because she turned her head.  _Not Bethany_. She was a darkspawn, her gray skin stretched taut across her face, her mouth cut open wide revealing too many and too sharp teeth.  _Mouth closed_ , but she couldn’t stop the welling of tears in her eyes at the mutation of her sister. There had to be a cure, there had to be  _something,_  if she could get past all of these monsters—

Hands encircled her wrists, and now she thrashed. The hands shifted to her arms, her shoulders, her daggers were gone, and she could no longer see Bethany, and they were going to  _strangle_  her.

Water hitting her face had her scrambling to her feet. The smell was gone, and Varric stood next to her with a bucket he was unsuccessfully trying to hide behind his back. Fenris knelt on the floor of the cavern, dripping almost as much as she was. He must have been the one grabbing her when Varric dumped the bucket.

 _“Fuck._ ” She stomped out of the cave where they had made camp and kept going toward the sea. The only benefit of sleeping alone for these past four years was nobody had to see her at her weakest. Drooling and snoring and farting were bad enough, but nightmares? Crying out, or even worse,  _crying_ , because of visions provided by her own traitorous mind? 

Footsteps behind her. Light, barefoot. Fenris. She ran her hand through her wet hair and feigned a smile.

“Whose bright idea was it to camp inside a cave, anyway?”

“Yours.”

“And whose idea was it to follow me?”

“Mine.”

Hawke turned to face the dark ocean. She dropped to sit on the sand, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Hm. People seem to keep making that mistake.”

Fenris remained standing. “I have followed you for four years now, Hawke, and it has never been a mistake.”

A ridiculous claim, coming from him. He’d followed her into more traps than she could count. Like the rest, he’d had bruises, cuts, and broken bones. On this very trip he’d stepped on a crab which snapped onto one of his toes, refusing to let go until Varric bolted it. They’d eaten the thing for supper.

And then, of course, he’d followed her into bed one night. Not a mistake, no. It had been ten thousand mistakes all piled together into a catastrophe. 

He didn’t have strong opinions on half of the missions she took on, he didn’t seem to care about money, and these days he never asked her for help with his own problems. So why was he still following her? 

“I brought Bethany to the Deep Roads. I thought templars were the only way I could lose her, and I found something so much worse.  _That_  was a mistake.”

“Bethany is with the Grey Wardens. She is fine.” The hand on her shoulder was a shock. Warm, comforting, yet she shivered. He pulled away. “But you know this. It was only a nightmare.”

It was also a prophecy. Anders had told her what fate awaited the Grey Wardens. She sniffed. “What will the people of Kirkwall think of their dashing hero when they find out she is driven to paroxysms by a simple, empty cavern? All the crime syndicates will flee their warehouses for the cliffs.”

"I have never known you to back away from a fight, cavern or no." 

But now he knew she sometimes cried in her sleep. It was  _vulnerabilit_ _y._ She wasn't allowed to have that anymore. She tightened her arms around her knees. 

Fenris sighed behind her. “Do you think I do not have nightmares of my own? Dreams of being back in Tevinter, finding my escape to Kirkwall never happened? Or worse, I’m back there and Kirkwall  _did_ happen." He started pacing behind her, though his voice stayed calm, kind almost. "Dreams of you giving me to Danarius… Wondering how much you would charge him for me, how much my life is worth to you? I see you haggling, like it’s the marketplace. ‘No, Magister, he’s worth at least twice that. Throw in twenty-five gold and I’ll tie a bow on him.’”

Her heart throbbed in her ears. She blinked hard to hold back the pinpricks of tears that had been threatening her since waking. She chanced to look at him. His mouth was a thin line, a tremble in his hand as he clenched it down. “Fenris, I would never—”

He nodded, eyes focused on the horizon. “I know.”

She wondered if he really did.  _How_  he could. If he would ever believe the people around him couldn’t suddenly change their minds, treat him like chattel, throw him away for a bit of coin. She was struck by just how  _brave_  he was.

“I wonder how you can even bear to talk to me after having dreams like that. I think I’d hold a grudge.”

“I suppose the same way you’ve kept leading us after everything that’s happened.”

He held his hand out to pull her up, but she shook her head, turning back to the sea. She was not going to sleep again tonight, and she’d rather spend the time in the open air than in that cave. She thought Fenris would leave, but instead he sat next to her and watched the waves. The stars retreated, the sky slowly started to lighten, and the birds began to stir. The slow breaths next to her were steady and deep. It was easier to be with him when he was sleeping. Easier to forget their mistakes, their anger, their grief. He slumped over, his head landing on her shoulder, and it was easy to forget they weren’t in love.

She needed to wake him up.

“Do you remember that time we went to Sundermount to fetch… I don’t even remember what for Merrill?”

He sighed, not yet pulling away from her. “Hm.”

“That ancient woman thought you were her dead husband come back from the Beyond? And I told you to just go along with it?”

Fenris sat up and rubbed his forehead. “She accused me of cheating on her with a halla and then slapped me.”

Hawke still laughed every time she remembered the scene. “Four years and it’s  _never_  been a mistake?”

He shook his head, and they walked back to Varric as the sun crept over the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this was going to be like 300 words, but Hawke got real moody. Whatever, she's allowed.
> 
> It occurred to me today that eyes are way more risky than mouths when it comes to exposure to toxin. Not to mention that with all the slashing, some of it would become aerosol droplets that would get inhaled into the lungs. Honestly, Hawke needs better PPE if she's going to be fighting darkspawn.


End file.
